Eye Contact is a Dangerous Thing
by HiGh on Imagination
Summary: Pitch is in the middle of his nightly rounds gathering nightmares when he has the misfortune to encounter a child that can see him, one who cares about defending his little sister from the "goblin king" more than being scared.
1. Chapter 1

Eye Contact is a Dangerous Thing

Prologue

The full moon's light filtered in through the warped glass windows. The silvery beams brushing against the face of the two year old as she scrunched her face up in her sleep; butterflies and birds made of glimmering golden sand danced above her head. The wrinkles on her young face smoothed out into a chubby cheeked smile.

"Oh isn't that just precious! Look at this adorable little girl all safe inside her little dreamlands…." A dark figure warped out of the shadows that writhed beneath the child's bed. The creature swung his head towards the frosted panes, baring his sharp teeth at the glowing moon. "It would be a real pity if something were to happen to the poor little dear… It's a shame old friend; you can only watch and never help…"

He gave a perfectly feral grin. "I hope you enjoy the show."

The monster's hand crept forward and grasped one of the birds by its neck; it let out a silent chirp before it the cheery gold sand corrupted into a sickening black, absorbing the rest of the dream along with it. The little songbird morphed into the ragged form of a Canadian goose. It affectionately brushed against the man's hand and nipped at his fingers playfully. Golden eyes lit up with glee as the little girl began to frown, letting out a small whimper, as her dream became a nightmare.

Outside the little cabin, the moonlight dimmed. The man began to chuckle darkly, his voice rising in volume as he spoke.

"Look at that little dream gone wrong! I think the little dear might even start to cry! Wouldn't that just be precious? I mean look at her, how scared she is! I can almost see why you love children so mu— Arghh!"

He let out a cry of pain as something rammed into his lower back sharply. With a snarl he whipped around to confront this new threat, the nightmare letting out a hiss.

"Get away from my sister you monster!"

The Boogieman froze.

He blinked in shock as he stared at the spindly young boy. The kid was glaring at him from underneath the three-legged stool he wielded above his head. The small hands tightened their grip on the seat, brown eyes filled with determination.

"You're scaring her! No one is allowed to scare my sister! Not even the Goblin King!"

The boogieman spluttered indignantly.

"Goblin King?! Goblin—you filthy brat! I am Pitch Black! I am the Boogieman! I am fear itself! How dare you mistaken me for that bloody show-pony Jareth!" Pitch towered over the child. "I am the Nightmare King and you will fear m—Oof!"

A chair to the gut interrupted him once more, causing him to double over in pain. The goose hopped onto the bedpost and cocked its head curiously as it observed the scene.

"Y-you little miscreant!" he gasped, reaching out to grab the offender. The boy jumped back, his instincts taking over for a split second. That didn't last long before being replaced by an unholy glee. It was the glee that all children seem to possess; the one that only comes out when a parent is exhausted to the point they are willing to give into any demand the child may make, and with a wicked grin he charged forward brandishing the stool wildly above his head. The boy was unrelenting in his attack, mercilessly beating Pitch over the head until he was forced to retreat.

Before long an absurd scene was taking place in the small bedroom as a young boy chased the nightmare king around in a circle, hitting him with the stool whenever the opportunity arose. The nightmare goose flapped its wings excitedly as it honked and bounced around the room following the duo.

As the lad chased the monster around he began to sing gleefully:

" _Jack be nimble! Jack be quick! Jack jump over the candle stick!"_

The door creaked open slightly.

"Jack, what are ye doing?" a woman called from the doorway.

The two males froze, glancing at each other before turning towards the door as it opened wider. Jack whipped the stool behind his back, his slender frame rendering the attempt ineffective.

"Chasing the boogieman?" Jack offered hesitantly. The goose bobbed its head in agreement at his side.

"Off to bed with ye this instant! That's enough of your childish games! You are seven years old! That's more then old enough for ye to know better then to be up to this tomfoolery! And at such an ungodly hour such as this! For shame boy! Ye could have wakened your sister!

"Yes mother" Jack hung his head.

Pitch began to snicker.

"Now back to bed before the fair folk take ye! And hurry! Or I'll take a switch to ye in the morning!" The door creaked shut and the footsteps padded away.

Jack raised the stool menacingly towards the nightmare king.

"Ah, ah, ah, you heard your mother, back to bed for all the naughty children!"

Jack took a step forward.

"On second thought, I have other children to terrorize. I really must be off for the night. Now off you go!" Pitch waved his hands in a placating manner as he began to back away.

"You won't scare my sister again?"

"No, I'll leave."

"Promise."

"I promise."

The boy squinted at him suspiciously before glancing at the door for a moment. He slumped a little and, a little too slowly for Pitch's tastes, lowered the stool.

"Okay." He turned and trudged his way back towards his bed, carefully setting the stool down beside it. The goose hopped onto it and settled down comfortably.

"That's right, that's a good little Jack."

Pitch followed him, lifting the thin blanket for the boy to crawl under. The boy let out a tired yawn.

"That was fun. Will you come back and play with me again?"

Pitch stumbled, his mind filled with shock.

 _Fun? The child thought it was a game? How dare he—._

"Goodnight Pitch."

He froze and looked at the little boy again.

"And remember; you promised, no more scaring my sister…" The boy trailed off as he fell back to sleep.

Pitch gave the goose a look and it sheepishly hopped off the stool.

"Of course."

And with that Pitch melted back into the room's shadows and left the home, the goose reluctantly trailing after him. They rematerialized a little way outside the humble cabin, his feet crunching in the snow, and glanced back at the unassuming window.

"But you, my dear Jack, should remember that the boogieman doesn't keep his promises."

* * *

No one noticed when the moon got a little bit brighter.

* * *

Far away, above the planet, a man leaned away from where he had been watching the scene unfold through his telescope.

"Thank you Pitch I most certainly did enjoy the show."

* * *

 **A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you for joining me on this new and exciting ride! It started off as a simple idea and well... here we are. I was listening to Changeling Child by Heather Dale while writing this, however, it was the chicken dance that was playing in my head as I wrote the chase scene between Pitch and Jack.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Fall had passed and even winter was beginning to release its bitter grip on the land before Pitch decided to try his luck again at the little home on the edge of the town. With Easter a few weeks away, he was determined to make an impact on the children of the village. For soon enough, the over-grown space rodent would come around and shatter all the lovely progress he had made during the long nights and howling storms of winter.

Silently he slipped from the shadows that dwelt beneath the bed of the little girl from all those months ago. He snarled noiselessly at the cute little dream she was having of rabbits and eggs. Pitch reached forward to corrupt the dream into a wonderful little nightmare when—

"You aren't trying to scare Aibhlinn again, aren't you?"

Pitch froze.

"Of course not!" he straightened up from where he had been leaning over her.

"Good, because it sure looked like you were trying to scare her."

"Don't be ridiculous! I promised you I wouldn't scare her again!" Pitch laughed.

"Then what were you doing?"

"I was … I was just…" Pitch paused, casting around for an excuse. "I was just making sure she was sleeping alright."

He quickly patted her head and began straightening the blankets on top of her sleeping form. The nightmare king quickly turned around with the most innocent smile he was capable of pasted on his face as he confronted his adversary…

…Only to see the boy sitting on the edge of his mattress with no blanket to speak of in sight.

"You had me there for a second! I thought I was going to have to use the stool again." Jack said amicably shifting a little further away from the stool that sat beside his bed.

Pitch flinched.

"Where is your blanket, boy?"

The child blinked. "Oh, Aibhlinn is sick so I gave it to her."

"What's that?"

"My sister, she's sick."

"I understood that part you dimwit, I was questioning what exactly an "av-er-leen" is."

"It's ave –leen. Aibhlinn is my sister's name." Jack deadpanned.

Pitch glanced back at the sleeping child, finally noticing the unhealthy flush to her cheeks.

"I see."

"Ma's has been very worried about her."

"Wouldn't she have less to worry about if you had your blanket and thus didn't get sick as well…?" The boogieman questioned creeping nearer with a frown sliding onto his face.

"I don't get sick. Besides I'm her big brother, it's my job to take care of her!" Jack frowned. "What's it to you anyways… Are you worried about me?"

"Don't be absurd child, I am merely stating a practical opinion!" Pitch snapped.

"Aww! You do care!" Jack gave him a mischievous grin. "Now if you're done tucking my sister in, do you want to play a game with me?"

"I'm afraid I can't play tonight, I have an awful lot of work to do! Children don't scare themselves…" The nightmare king began to back away in hopes of retreating seamlessly. It was working quite well until—

"Honk"

His foot caught on a large, _moving_ object sending him sprawling gracelessly on his back. Pitch turned sharply towards the offending object only to see the nightmare goose standing there.

"You still have that?" Jack questioned.

"Unfortunately, its been following me around and getting under foot as you can see. The others generally don't." He glared at the creature distastefully.

The nightmare ignored him (him! THE Nightmare _King_ ) and happily waddled over to the abhorred stool. The bird proceeded to jump on top of the offending object and settle itself down, cocking its head at him defiantly.

Pitch gritted his teeth together glaring at the bird.

"Honk"

"See your goose wants you to play with me too!" Jack chirped.

"There are so many things wrong with your logic I don't even know where to begin addressing it."

"Then don't! Come on! Let's have some fun instead!" The boy whined. "It's been so boring around here! Because of Lent, nobody has been playing lately!"

"Lent?"

"You know! The six weeks before Easter when we fast and give things up in penance for our sins? The six weeks where nobody plays because we are supposed to be solemn and mournful because Jesus died to save us? Which I honestly don't get, because if Jesus became man because he loved us so much, he wouldn't want us to be sad about his death! Besides he came back three days later! So why do people say we have to be sad—"

"I know what Lent is you insufferable brat! I wanted to know why you are observing it." Pitch interrupted.

"I'm Catholic."

"You are in the British colonies. Most British colonies are Puritan and not terribly fond of Catholics."

Jack's face lit up. "Nope! This is a French territory actually!"

"You are definitely not French."

"Ma's Irish and Pa's English. Since they're Catholic the British colonies wouldn't have them, so they moved here to uh-ah-u—however you say it! Though Ma and Pa call it Hawthorn."

"Aubépine"

"Yes! How did you know?"

"… It's the French word for Hawthorn."

"Oh, well that makes sense. So will you play with me?"

"I already said I couldn't."

"Well, I guess I can bring out the stool again." Jack said contemplatively.

"On second thought, I'm sure I could spare _some_ time!" The boogieman hastily sat down on the bed beside the boy; carefully placing himself between Jack and the stool.

Jack smiled brightly, "Lovely! What do you want to play?"

"What do _I_ want to play?! You are the one coercing me into this!"

"If you wanted something from me wouldn't you do the same?"

"I'm the Nightmare King! What's your excuse?"

"I'm seven!"

Pitch glared at the boy, "I'll admit, your good." He said at last. "But I'm not choosing the game."

"But you are the guest!"

"You are insufferable!"

"No, I'm Jack!"

Pitch closed his eyes and rubbed his temples slowly. "What. Game."

"Hmmmm… How about a riddle game! If you stump me you can leave but if I stump you, you have to come back and play with me again!"

"That is ridiculous."

"Honk."

"See your goose agrees with me!"

Pitch growled. "Fine."

Jack's smile lit up the whole room. "Wonderful! You first!"

Pitch paused in thought for a moment. A dark smile slowly slid across his face.

"Always old, sometimes new. Never sad, sometimes blue. Never empty, sometimes full. Never pushes, always pulls. What am I?"

The boy frowned in thought for a long moment, casting his eyes about the room in search of the answer. Pitch began to enjoy the taste of victory when:

"The Moon! The answer is the moon!" Jack cried.

Pitch let out a snarl.

"It's my turn now!" Jack said happily.

"I saw a wonder upon a wave, water turned to bone." He chirped.

"Ice." Pitch didn't even need to pause.

Jack pouted.

"My turn now I believe," Pitch said smoothly. "The poor have it, the rich need it, and if you eat it you will die. What is it?"

The boy stared at the wall blankly for a time before his face lit up.

"Father Nicolas-Raoul told me this one! It's nothing!"

Pitch gritted his teeth. "Go on then."

"The more you have of it, the less you see. What is it?" Jack sang.

The boogieman paused.

"Smoke?"

"No"

"Light?"

"You would have better luck finding a giant rabbit then answering this right if _that's_ your best guess!" Jack grinned.

"Don't remind me."

"What?"

"Never mind; Snow?"

"Wrong again!" The child sang.

"Common Sense?!" Pitch snarled.

Jack blinked. "That doesn't even make sense."

"The more you have of it, the less you see it in others." He growled back.

"Huh, that's not bad, still wrong though. Do you give up?"

Pitch paused. He didn't want to admit defeat but then again… the boogieman doesn't have to keep his promises…

"Fine."

Jack grinned. "So I win this round!"

"That's lovely and all but what is the answer you miserable child!"

"Darkness."

Pitch outright roared in rage; sending his shadows into a frenzy as they swarmed around the room, knocking things over as they went. He rose to his feet towering over the boy when—.

"Jack? What's going on?"

The sleep-addled voice gave a pause to the nightmare king's rage. Both he and Jack turned to look at the voice's owner. The little girl was rubbing her eyes exhaustedly, the fevered flush staining her face dark in the pale moonlight. Jack hopped off his bed and went to his sister.

"Go back to sleep Aibhlinn, I'll tell you in the morning."

"Really?"

"I promise."

The little girl regarded him suspiciously for a moment before nodding and snuggling back down into her bed once more. Jack stayed next to her, stroking her hair until the child's even breathing betrayed her sleeping state.

The boy turned back and glared at Pitch.

"Stop being so overdramatic! If you wake my sister again I'll bring out the stool. I mean really, a big scary nightmare king loosing his temper over a riddle? That's really pathetic. It's just a game, no need to be so petty about loosing."

Pitch shuffled his feet sheepishly and sat back down on the bed. Jack glared at him a moment more before hopping up and sitting on the bed with him.

"Honk."

"See your goose agrees with me!"

"It won't be my goose much longer if it keeps up its behavior."

The goose wisely stayed silent.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the odd group. However with one of the trio being an energetic seven year old, even that couldn't last long.

"It's your turn."

"Ripped from my mother's womb, beaten and burned, I become a blood thirsty killer. What am I?"

"Iron."

Pitch gapped at him. "How did you—."

"My dad is a blacksmith."

"I see."

"Here's one! When set loose, I fly away. Never so cursed as when I go astray, what am I?"

Pitch sighed deeply. "Could you be more childish?"

Jack grinned at him impishly, "I'm seven, what's your excuse?"

The nightmare king gritted his teeth, "The answer is passing wind."

"Awww! I wanted you to say fart!"

"Don't. Push it."

"Fine it's your turn!"

"Die without me, never thank me. Walk right through me, never feel me. Always watching, never speaking. Always lurking, never seen. What am I?"

The child paused, his face screwed up tight in thought.

"… You?"

"I'm right in front of you! We have been conversing for hours on two separate occasions! What do you mean?"

"Well Ma and Aibhlinn couldn't see you—."

"Well, you're wrong, and I'm off!"

"Wait! Don't I get another chance?"

"No!" Pitch snapped, rising to his feet and sweeping his way over to the darkened corner.

"But I gave you lots of chances!"

"Well, that's too bad for you!" he snapped bitterly. He turned back slightly and addressed the goose.

"Come along then."

"Honk" the goose shifted reluctantly.

"Now!" He snarled. The goose obediently rose and waddled after him. Together the pair left the young boy alone on his bed.

"You didn't let me finish explaining…" Jack said softly to the empty air.

* * *

Pitch shook himself off as he re-entered his liar, taking in the fearlings and nightmares alike that resided in it's towering caverns.

"Honestly, whose side are you on, you useless bag of feathers! I hope the others have been more productive then the two of us were tonight."

* * *

 **A/N:Alright! here is another chapter! Sorry if it seems a little rushed. I am actually posting this as a school project so the this chapter and the next one will be a little messy. I'll pretty them up later and repost them at a later date. :) Incidentally, I don't own Rise of the Guardians or any of the featured riddles!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The air was frigid in the pre-dawn hours as the people streamed out of the small wooden chapel after the Easter vigil mass; singing and dancing as they celebrated the resurrection of Christ in the wee hours of Sunday morning.

The whole village was out in the streets, well the whole village except for two. Those two people were in the small room in the back of the church were the few garments and sacred items were kept when not being used for mass. Jack was sitting on top of a table, swinging his feet back and forth as he watched the village priest put away the chalice.

"I met the boogieman last autumn." Jack blurted out.

"Oh, did you now?" the priest responded.

"He was trying to give Aibhlinn a nightmare."

"But I take it something happened; and that he didn't succeed?"

"… I may have hit him with a stool." The young boy admitted sheepishly. Father Nicolas-Raoul Flamel stared at him intently. "I also made him promise to never scare my sister again." Jack finished.

"That's a good lad, keeping your sister safe."

Jack peered at him curiously. "You believe me?"

"Are you lying to me?" The priest returned sharply.

"No! Of course not!"

"Then why shouldn't I believe you?"

"Ma and Aibhlinn didn't believe me… They couldn't even see him…"

"That my dear boy is because some of us see more then other's do."

"Why?"

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

"My name isn't Hor-Hor-rate-see-oh."

The priest laughed deeply. "Of course you aren't! Horatio is from Shakespeare's play _Hamlet_! No Horatios here young friend!"

"Okay" Jack frowned. "What's it mean then?"

"It means that there is more out there then anyone can imagine!" The man whirled to face the boy and poked him firmly in the chest. "And you! You, Jack, should never doubt yourself, even when others insist you must be wrong! Do you understand?"

Jack nodded slowly. "I think so."

The priest raised an eyebrow at him.

"I know so!" Jack said firmly.

Fr. Nicolas-Raoul smiled warmly. "What brought you to tell me about this now?"

"He came back a few weeks ago. Pitch, that's what he said his name was; said that he wasn't there to scare my sister… But it looked an awful lot like that was what he was going to do if I hadn't interfered again." Jack trailed off.

"And how did you do that my young friend?"

"… I threatened him with the stool again…"

Father roared with laughter at the young lad's audacity. "And what happened next?"

"What makes you think anything happened next?"

"Because you, my young friend, are Jackson Overland and I would bet my Easter dinner that something happened next when the boogieman came a calling."

"Welllll… As a matter of fact, something did happen next; we played a game of riddles!"

"And how pray, did you manage to talk the boogieman into that?"

"Well I told Pitch that if I won a riddle, he had to come back and play riddles with me again but if he won he could leave for the night."

"So who won?"

Jack puffed out his skinny chest. "I did first! Then he won a few riddles later."

"Of course you would win!" Father Nicolas-Raoul roared. "Beating the nightmare king at his own game! Beating him at riddles and attacking him with a stool to protect your sister! You are not a boy you are a wolf! A little wolf but a wolf to be sure! I will call you Louvel! Now come, let us join the celebrations Louvel!"

Jack jumped off the table and made his way towards the door; as he grabbed the knob he paused.

"Is it okay that I'm playing with the boogieman?"

"That depends, has he tried to hurt you?"

"No."

"Do you think he will?"

"…No."

"Then it should be fine, but if he ever tries, come get me. Be it day or night, I will come."

Jack smiled and opened the door.

"Thanks Father."

 **A/N: this is actually a half of a chapter that I'm posting a little early. The second half will be posted shortly!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The celebrations had been carrying on for a while, and the sun had just begun to rise when Jack was tackled by his little sister.

"Jack! Jack! I need your help!"

"What's wrong?"

Aibhlinn shuffled her feet and bowed her head in shame. "I didn't gather wood for the outside pile yesterday and the pile in the kitchen is running low…"

Jack frowned for a moment, it _was_ light enough that going to the forest shouldn't be too much of a problem but they were still dangerous to an extent. Granted, with all the noise the villagers had been making it should be fine as long as he took the small bow and arrows he had…

The boy smiled brightly, "Don't worry, I'll go get more wood! Go have some fun!"

The relief on his sister's face made it worth it. No one wants to get in trouble on Easter Sunday.

….

Jack easily snuck away from the village, totting the small sled they used to gather wood in one hand and his bow in the other, a quiver of arrows hanging at his belt. Due to the recent snows, most of the wood was wet, but Jack knew of an old dead tree deeper in the forest that would have dry wood nestled beneath it. He quickened his steps as to counteract the chilly air, keeping an eye out for obstacles in the early dawn light.

The bushes ahead of him began to rustle. The boy froze. Slowly and quietly he set down the rope that attached to the sled and notched an arrow in his bow. He began to cautiously approach the source of the noise silently. The natives who came to trade at the village on occasion had taught him how to do that in exchange for him teaching their children how to play hopscotch.

When he was close enough Jack peered through the bushes and saw the strangest creature he had ever seen. It was huge and gray with strange dark markings dancing across its pelt. The large ears reminded Jack of a rabbit but the limbs were too long and the creature too large.

Jack cast about for what the animal could possibly be; perhaps it was the kangeerow animal that Father Nicolas-Raoul had heard about from the sailors on his way to the New World! He said the were found in a far away place called uh-straw-lee-a, but if the boogieman could show up and play riddle games with him at night then a kangeerow could show up in Hawthorn! What's more is that a kangeerow that size could feed his family for a month! His Pa would be so proud of him for catching it!

Jack took a careful aim, after all he only had one chance at this, kangeerows might be very dangerous when angered; and let the arrow fly.

"YEEEEOOOOOWCHHH!" a terrifyingly human voice screamed in pain as the arrow dug itself deeply into his shoulder—inches away from his vulnerable neck.

The boy gasped in shock and stumbled back, frozen in shock at first. Jack quickly recovered and darted forward to the creature.

"I'm so sorry! I thought you were just an animal! Father Nicholas-Raoul didn't tell me that kangeerows could talk!"

The kangeerow proceeded to run off in a language unlike any that Jack had ever heard. It was more musical then French, softer then English, and more earthy the various native tongues had had heard when the occasions arose; regardless jack knew profanity when he heard it. Despite the alien syllables, he managed to pick one word out of the rest—Lanjakoda. Jack wondered what it meant; maybe he could ask Pitch next time they played together!

Jack clambered up the struggling animal's back—he had to be as tall as the nightmare king—and grasped the arrow firmly.

"Stay still for a moment please." He gasped as he hung on tightly.

The kangeerow stilled.

"I'm going to count, I will pull out the arrow on three. Sound good?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, here we go! One! Two!" Jack wrenched the arrow out of the creature. "THREE!"

The Kangeerow let out another near scream of pain.

"I thought you said three!" It snarled.

"I did! My dad did that to me too when Jean accidently shot me with an arrow! He said it hurts less to pull it out on two."

"Crickey mate! You bloody shot me! You don't get to be ordering me around! Now get off!"

Jack slide to the ground nimbly. He glanced back at the kangeerow's bleeding shoulder guiltily. Jack reached up and touched his scarf. His mother had spent hours making it for him using wool that could have gone to giving Aibhlinn an extra pair of stockings instead; but the person he had shot and injured was bleeding—badly. Jack nodded firmly to himself; he would take the scolding. Whipping off the soft scarf he held it up to the giant animal.

"You're still bleeding, here, you can use this as a bandage."

"Bloody right I will! Honestly, what were you thinking?!"

"My family could eat for a month."

The Kangeerow stared at him for a moment, demeanor softening ever so slightly.

"Of course of all the people to believe in me, you would be one of them." He growled as he wrapped up his arm.

"I really am sorry."

"Just, don't go expecting anything from me anytime soon!"

After the Kangeerow was all patched up, he took off with some choice muttering and a snarled comment on how much work he was now behind on.

Looking at the sun told Jack that he had spent far more time away from the village then planned and he would have to hurry to get the wood so he could slip back unnoticed… However it was more likely he had already been missed and that everyone would be looking for him now. The chaos of Easter celebrations could only cover so much in a small village like theirs.

He quickly grabbed his fill of wood and rushed back. However sneaking in was not meant to be, as Father Nicholas-Raoul was waiting for him at the forest edge.

"Jack, your sister was beginning to worry about you. Fortunately she told me what happened and so I came to look for you instead of raising the village to arms the way your parents would have. You shouldn't scare her like this. At this rate she won't need the boogieman to give her nightmares."

"Sorry father, I didn't mean to take that long but I saw a kangeerow and in all the excitement I lost track of time."

"See that you don't do that again Louvel." Father said gravely before his tone switched to something far more jovial. "I believe young Aibhlinn will need your help! There are some beautiful little eggs that she's spotted but they have been tucked under the goose and I believe we are both aware of how your sister feels about geese."

Jack chuckled, "I thinks her fear of geese is why when the boogieman turned her dream into a nightmare it became a goose actually!"

"Really! He did that!" Father's eyebrow's shot up.

"Yes! And it doesn't like to listen to him and causes lots of trouble!"

"Well, better it be a hindrance then a help when it comes to the Boogieman!"

Jack beamed at the Priest, "My thoughts exactly!"

 **A/N: So a couple things really. Firstly, sorry about the format change, my computer got all weird towards the end of this chapter. Secondly, I would like to apologize about the Australian accent that I attempted here. My only experience with Australia is animal planet, Crocodile Dundee, and my great uncle's Emu ranch. Lastly, I couldn't find any Pooka curse words but I did find a language called Telugu. No idea where that language hails from, but I borrowed it for now. It might change as the story is more developed but point stands. The word I used means SOB incidentally. Also, I don't know if Australia was even colonized or explored at this point and I am too tired to care at the moment so that will be that. Again this is a fast post and will be edited later.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Almost a month passed before Pitch found himself inexplicably standing in the small, drafty bedroom once again. He had no idea what he was doing back at the home. He had absolutely no reason—or desire—to come back to the small homestead. Yet, here he was, standing between the two small beds once again.

"Pitch?" a sleepy voice called out.

Pitch grimaced. The brat seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to him. The boy was constantly aware of when he was present.

"Jack." He answered.

Jack rubbed the sand out of his eyes—much to the chagrin of the nightmare king.

"Are you here to play with me?" the boy asked.

"Honk"

Pitch jumped at the unexpected sound.

Jack smiled. "Hi there goose."

The boogieman turned around and snarled at the goose that had dared sneak up behind him.

"Honk."

The goose had the audacity to ignore him, proceeding to waddle past him as if it hadn't undermined his authority and hopped onto the cursed stool once more.

"Honk."

It cocked its head at him defiantly.

Pitch began to stride towards the errant nightmare; completely fed up with its behavior when Jack's laughter halted him.

"Let me guess, it's still being a nuisance?"

"Do you even know what that word means?" Pitch said incredulously.

"Ma calls me that when I get in trouble so I think it means being bad." Jack said in a knowing tone.

"It means annoyance, so you're not wrong."

"Oh"

Jack seemed to ponder something for a moment. "Say, Pitch…"

"Yes?"

"You know a lot about stuff right?"

"Naturally."

"Stuff like other languages?"

"I know all of them." Pitch snapped.

Jack brightened. "Great! So what does Lanjakoda mean?"

Pitch stared at the child in shock. "Lan… jakoda…"

"Yeah! What does it mean?" The boy chirped excitedly.

It had been a very long time since Pitch had heard that language… A very long time and on a very different world in fact; it was a language that no human should know— least of all, this little boy in front of him.

"Where did you learn that word, boy?" Pitch said very, very slowly

"I learned it from the Kangeerow!"

The nightmare king frowned. "Kangaroo?"

"Yeah! I saw him on Easter!" So Jack ran into the Pooka then.

"And what prompted this 'kangaroo' to teach you that word?"

Jack suddenly discovered that his hands were extremely interesting before mumbling something unintelligible.

"Jack? I didn't quite catch that." Pitch narrowed his eyes.

"I shot him with an arrow."

"You what."

"It was an accident honestly! I thought kangeerows were just animals! I didn't realize they could talk!" Jack protested vehemently.

"It's just he was so big! Almost as big as a moose! And the winter has been so long! I saw him and all I could think about was how long he could feed our family and so I didn't check to make sure he wasn't a person…" the boy trailed off.

Pitch's shoulders started to shake.

"Pitch..? Are you mad at me?" Jack said in a small voice. "I didn't mean to hurt him… Honest!"

"You!" Pitch gasped. "You shot th-the Easter Bunny!"

The nightmare king roared with laughter.

"Th-this is the best thing I've heard in centuries!" He wheezed. "I can't even remember the last time I was this happy!"

It took him more than a moment to realize that the boy next to him had gone incredibly still. His laughter died away as he realized his companion had hunched down and seemed to have crumpled into himself.

"Jack?"

"Did I really shoot the Easter Bunny?"

"Well… Yes… yes, you did."

"Is he going to be okay?" Jack's lip wobbled ever so slightly.

Pitch rolled his eyes. "I'm sure he is going to be just fine… Unfortunately."

"Is he going to hate me? I don't want him to hate me. What if he stops coming here?" The boy whispered.

The boogieman felt something dark rear up inside him.

"Please? That overgrown-rodent? Hate a child? He couldn't hate a fly, let alone a child. He is far too disgustingly attached to children to hate one." Pitch spat.

"What does it matter anyways if he stopped coming? What's so special about him and his ridiculous eggs?! Am I not enough for you? You ungrateful little brat!" He snarled, looming over the child.

"I don't care if he doesn't leave eggs for me anymore! Ma says I'm getting too old for Easter Egg hunts anyways… I just don't want him to stop leaving eggs for Aibhlinn! Besides, he doesn't play games with me… You do!"

Jack threw his arms around the Nightmare King's waist, clinging to him tightly.

Pitch froze in utter shock. His world went hazy, his focus narrowed down to the point of contact between him and the child. A dim memory of a young girl clinging to his waist in the same fashion ages past flittered through the fog. He just barely caught Jack's next words.

"I would choose you over the Easter Bunny any day."

With that Pitch's mind went blank.

…And he ran away.

Pitch spent the rest of the night brooding on his throne as his nightmares skittered around his liar.

Just out of his view the nightmare goose clacked its beak in a dissatisfied manner. It narrowed its putrid yellow eyes as it considered its boss. This wouldn't do. This wouldn't do at all. And it seemed it was up to the bird to get the job done right.

 **A/N: And done! I am dos so sorry that this is so very very late! I got hit by finals and then just kinda forgot about this until a few days ago... I'll try not to let this happen again... *nervously glances at my other accounts with unfinished fanfics screaming at me***

 **Fortunately for you my dear readers! My roommate and co-story creator makes sure that won't happen with this story!**

 **I hope you all enjoy! I'm already working my way through the next chapter already so that should be up pretty soon!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Aster was just beginning to begin his preparations for next Easter. He had just gotten back from the vacation that he allowed himself after every Easter that was successfully pulled off.

The Pooka rolled his shoulder—it was still stiff from the arrow wound, making his work a little bit more difficult then necessary. He was checking the dye plants, making note of which colors he needed to seed when his security measures alerted him there was an intruder in the tunnels.

Aster had designed the warren's security to recognize the other guardians and if it was another legend or seasonal spirit they knew to enter through the Easter Island entrance, not his tunnels. Whoever was invading his warren wasn't coming for a friendly visit.

The pooka raced across the warren, his stone guardians falling in behind him as he passed. He scrambled to a stop the moment the tunnel entrances came into view.

The sight that greeted him was a chilling one. Shadows streamed out of the tunnels spreading across the hollow, blotting out the light. The shrieks of fearlings echoed out of the gapping darkness before being overshadowed by the Nightmare King's laughter.

Aster stumbled to halt before the growing darkness, as his warren was cloaked in shadows. He didn't have to wait long before the owner of the chilling laughter revealed himself to the pooka, striding out regally from swarming void.

"What's this? Is a little bunny afraid of the dark?" The boogieman sneered, his ashen-pale fangs flashing against the dark.

The pooka didn't hesitate to fling a boomerang at the wraith-like figure, only for it to dissolve on contact, causing his weapon to sail through harmlessly.

"Pitch! What are you doing here!" Aster snarled.

"Oh, nothing much; I was just _hoping_ to see if it was true." Pitch hummed, his voice echoing from one of the ledges above the warren.

Aster felt a deep bolt of pain sear through his bad shoulder as a fearling knocked into it from behind him, hard. He bit back the cry of pain, refusing to give his enemy that satisfaction.

"Seeing how _stiff_ you are it seems it was." The boogieman's voice was filled with glee.

"What are you talking about?" the Guardian barked, peripherally glimpsing Pitch's silhouette to his right.

"What can I say? I ran across the most interesting little nightmare the other night… a poor little boy dreaming about the Easter Bunny hating him because he shot him with an arrow… Terrified that he had ruined Easter for his little sister." The Nightmare King drawled innocently, his voice sounding softly to Aster's left.

"I of course didn't believe it at first when my fearlings told me about the dream, but it was so odd I decided to take a look for myself and well, an ordinary little boy wouldn't have known what you looked like. So I came here to confirm it." Pitch's voice came from directly behind Aster.

Aster whipped around and punched at the smug face of the nightmare king, only for Pitch to vanish before it landed.

The pooka felt his stomach churn violently at the thought. It was his fault that a child was suffering nightmares? Even if he wasn't exactly fond of the kid, it went against his nature to be the cause of a child's fear.

The former general gripped where the arrow had pierced him. "Oh how a warrior like you has fallen! Getting shot by a child!" he chuckled darkly as the pooka winced. Aster ripped his shoulder out of Pitch's grip.

"I should be congratulating you! Scaring a child? You're almost becoming my ally!" The boogieman crowed.

"You don't go near that child! Ya hear me Pitch!? Ya don't touch him! Not a piece of him!" He took another swipe at the nightmare king but his target vanished once again before contact.

"And who is going to keep me away? You?!" Pitch sneered. "No no no, you are going to have enough troubles of your own without protecting _one_ little boy out of _thousands_ from his fears."

"Oi! The only one who's going to be having any kind of trouble is you, when I'm through!" Aster snapped, waving his boomerang threateningly.

"As entertaining as your proposition sounds, I'm afraid that I have other places to be."

The fearlings swirled out of the warren as abruptly as they came. Above the roar of the shadows Aster could hear the sound of Pitch's laughter.

"Happy Easter, Bunny."

In the wake of the Nightmare King's visit, the warren was left in shambles.

Aster snuck around the woods on the outskirts of the small village. The scarf was cleaned and balled up tightly in his fist as he crept closer to the settlement. He didn't know where the boy lived, but in a small place like this, it shouldn't be too hard.

The pooka dropped down, crouching closely to the ground, the hand with the scarf clutched to his chest as his other paws rested on the ground. His nose twitched as he observed the children playing through the foliage that he was hiding behind. Aster assessed the children, looking for the boy. He spotted a young girl with similar features shrieking with laughter as she chased the other children around. That must be the sister that Pitch had mentioned, the Easter Bunny noted. Yet the boy was nowhere to be seen.

The whistling sound was all the warning that Aster had before his body was thrown into shock, the world taking on a surreal sheen.

He let out a loud cry as his mind scrambled, trying to discern what had just happened. That's when the pain started. Aster glanced over to the source of the lancing pain that radiated out of his bad shoulder… only to see another arrow buried in it. The small part of him that wasn't caught up in pain and shock twitched with annoyance.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no! I thought you were a wolf! I am so sorry! I didn't mean to shoot you again!" an unfortunately familiar voice registered through the clearing haze as the shock began to give way to pain.

The boy skidded to a halt beside him, the child-sized hands immediately sizing up the state of Aster's shoulder.

"We—" Aster grunted "Have got—to stop meeting like this!"

"I'm so so so sorry!" the boy cried out. Aster stared at the boy incredulously.

"You don't say." he hissed back.

"Will you please forgive me?" the boy stared at him with a pitiful look on his face.

Aster was about to snap back at him but hesitated— _"a poor little boy dreaming about the Easter Bunny hating him…"_ — Pitch's words came back to him.

"Let's deal with this arrow first and talk about apologies after."

 **A/N: Hello Everyone! So sorry this chapter took a while to come out! Sandy and I attend a school that goes year around and this has been a very crazy quarter!**

 **Incidentally! Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, it really brightens up the day for the both of us! Special shoutout to the guest who sent us a review about Telugu culture! It was super fascinating and if you're reading this, please come back and message us! I would love to hear more about your culture!**

 **Heads for everyone reading this, I know this story is coming off to a slow start but there is a reason for this! I promise! Sandy and I have this whole story mapped out and we are in it for the long run! It will probably be on the slower, fluffy track its on right now for a little bit longer. I believe that there will be some larger time skips in the future chapters which should bring us up to some action!**

 **~The Nightmare Queen~**


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